Bam, bam, bam.
The sharp sound of bamboo swords clashing echoed again and again across the empty dojo.
"Watch your stance and your steps. Your footwork needs to be quick and stable, center of gravity low!"
In the dojo, Emiya and Nono were both dressed in training uniforms, each holding a bamboo sword… though it was mostly Emiya guiding Nono's practice.
Earlier, after pulling Nono away and confirming they'd shaken off any tails, Emiya led her through two streets to the city's "Youth Palace."
For Emiya, "Youth Palace" sounded like something out of another era — and the word "palace" gave it a faint whiff of "high art." But stepping inside, he saw it had long been converted into a commercial operation, renting out its space for all sorts of classes.
Most of the huge space was now occupied by a dozen different interest classes, and since it was a weekend, swarms of kids filled the place — mostly sent here by middle-class parents who didn't want them running wild at home.
As he came in, Emiya cast a sympathetic glance at an art teacher being assaulted by elementary school kids throwing paint everywhere.
Next to them was a big sign: Bai Shi Landscape Painting Center. Others included Saba Belly Dance Center, Nie Er Piano Center, and of course Musashi Kendo Training Center.
Thinking of Nono's training, Emiya simply sought out the kendo instructor, rented some practice gear and secured a quiet, unused section of the dojo.
The instructor, who also taught the kendo classes himself, at first waved him off, saying it was against the rules. Kendo wasn't just a game — accidents could happen. They needed to sign up properly and pay fees. Besides, the spare dojo already had another class scheduled later…
In response, Emiya used the power of cash — and to demonstrate his skill, he performed a flawless bare-handed bamboo sword disarm.
And so, the entire empty dojo was theirs.
Bam!Nono held a solid middle stance, then stomped down hard, left hand powering the swing and right hand guiding it as the tip of the bamboo sword cut through the air — only to be swatted aside by Emiya with a casual sidestep, his pose full of seeming openings yet perfectly timed, the clash ringing sharp.
A moment later, seeing her grip falter, Emiya deftly twisted his sword and tapped it against her neck.
"Your footwork's too slow. Your legs need to be as nimble as your blade. Real combat is a mix of observation, movement, courage, and strength. You can't neglect any of them."
He instructed her patiently.
Truthfully, Nono's fundamentals weren't bad. Back at the Chen estate, she'd been the most talented daughter — she learned anything quickly. Kendo, hand-to-hand, she was even a standout fighter at school.
But in front of Emiya, she was hopeless.
She thought she was fully focused on the bout, but no matter what angle she struck from — slash, thrust, cut, feint — Emiya just let his sword tip hang idly near the floor.
Then, just as she was sure she'd landed a hit, he would counter at exactly the right moment and win in one move.
It was as if he could see the future.No — it wasn't quite the same. Old Tang's high-speed calculation was more like analyzing the future, whereas Emiya's responses were pure instinct — catching and reacting without thinking.
Bam!
Another loud clash echoed through the dojo as Nono's fierce strike was again blocked effortlessly by Emiya, his gaze low, his body relaxed.
"How did you do that? You weren't even looking at me!"
"Your intent to attack is too obvious. You telegraph with every move — the sound of your stance, your heavy breathing, your straight-line steps."
Emiya shook his head, lowering his sword.
He noticed Nono was breathing harder now, a few beads of sweat dripping from her tied-back hair, her loose kendo uniform visibly rising and falling with each breath, the thin inner layer beneath beginning to cling from the damp.
It wasn't that Nono was weak — this coastal city's summer heat was punishing, and the humid air in this less-than-ventilated dojo made every breath feel heavy.
Nono tugged at her damp white kendo top, pulling it out and fanning herself so the sticky heat could escape, the billowing fabric tracing the lines of her slender figure.
Technically, proper kendo practice required armor on top of the uniform, but Nono had refused — saying the dojo's armor stank and was too hot to bear in this weather.
Watching her so unabashedly adjust herself, Emiya couldn't help but frown. "…Didn't the Chen family ever make you take any noble etiquette classes?"
"Hmm? Oh, sure." Nono looked puzzled by the question.
"And you didn't learn anything?"
"I learned it, but the classes were boring. I never listened — never really needed to."
Figures. That was very much Nono.
"And you don't find my kendo lessons boring?"
Emiya had thought it a bit of a waste for her to learn magic with him — she could've learned so much more staying at the Zhou estate. But since she insisted on following him, this was the path she'd chosen.
"Not boring at all!" Nono gripped her sword again, eyes clear and determined. "To take revenge on that god, I have to get stronger!"
She didn't want to sit and study or do research at the Zhou estate. What she needed was fighting strength — the kind that could defeat that god.
"Good." Emiya nodded, seeing her resolve was real. He raised his sword into a chūdan-no-kamae stance.
"Don't stop. Attack me again!"
————
"Brother Chu!"
At that moment, Chu Zihang arrived as usual at the Musashi Kendo dojo in the Youth Palace. He was just about to change into his uniform and armor when his classmates called out to him, asking if he wanted to spar.
Zihang frowned slightly. He hadn't sparred with anyone in a long time.
It wasn't because he was cold or antisocial — anyone who knew him knew he just wasn't expressive or talkative. The real reason was simple: none of his classmates were on his level.
"There's so many people today?"
He looked around and saw the dojo was almost twice as full as usual, even the corner he usually reserved for himself was occupied.
One student quietly pointed at the instructor. "Not sure, but someone saw this pair — a guy and a girl — come and ask for a quiet place to spar. They flashed a black card and the teacher caved."
Another argued, "It was just a temporary rental! At first the teacher said no, but then the guy disarmed him barehanded!"
"That's called 'disarming with empty hands'!"
The students all chattered around Zihang. He was popular — everyone admired his skill.
He was the strongest in the dojo, even surpassing the teacher. Over time he'd gotten into the habit of practicing alone.
The others all said he'd surely be the youngest to reach eighth dan, maybe even tenth, maybe even be called a boy sword saint someday. They even joked the city's TV station would one day beg him for a public demonstration.
Not that Zihang cared.
He'd only joined kendo in the first place because of an old grudge — back in elementary school, a karate black belt had mocked him for being the son of a remarried mother.
His birth father had been a poor driver, and only after his mother married the wealthy Lu Tianming did Zihang get to live well.
But that black belt sneered that his mother had "sold her looks," calling Zihang nothing but a driver's son.
At the time, Zihang hadn't known kendo and could only endure. But he'd spent three years practicing, and at graduation finally beat the black belt to the floor with his bamboo sword.
After that, he kept practicing — no longer for revenge, but because he wanted to excel in everything he did: school, basketball, kendo.
"I'm not sparring. I'm going for a walk."
Zihang left the group with those words.
He knew that at his level, he'd only hurt them — and he wasn't much of a teacher either.
He stepped out, rounded a corner, and instinctively glanced into the adjacent dojo. Sure enough — there was a red-haired boy and girl sparring.
Neither wore armor, and at first glance they looked like siblings.
The girl's kendo was sharp and precise, but compared to the boy she was like a child waving a toy sword — he defeated her every time.
"With strength this small, you still want revenge? Again! Attack me again!"
Zihang heard the red-haired boy shout as the girl stubbornly got back on her feet.
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome][Thank You For Your Support!]